


Glass House

by scribeofmorpheus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), spiderman far from home - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Marrital troubles, lack of catharsis, relationship troubles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 05:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19784560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribeofmorpheus/pseuds/scribeofmorpheus
Summary: Premise:Imagine having marriage troubles with Beck after he gets fired from his job. He develops an obsessive behaviour towards perfecting his tech so he can have the last laugh -at the expense of everything. Things fall apart before he becomes Mysterio and the events of Far From Home transpire.





	Glass House

**~**

Your husband Quentin had been holed up in his cramped, messy office for weeks. You hadn't seen his face for what felt like ages.

At first, his determination to rebuild and improve his tech after Stark had fired him had seemed an endearing portrayal of determination. A reminder of how stubborn and brilliant his beautiful brain could be. However, that also meant you were left out in the cold, feeling isolated and helpless to help him while he kept a one-track mind.

Things had already become strained after Quentin discovered Tony had named his world-changing project B.A.R.F.

He'd come home that night, fuming and raging about how his life's work had been turned into a joke. His well-confined temper always the trickiest road to manoeuvre once it was released. It had taken all night to calm him down and remind him of all the good things Tony could never take away from him.

You had kissed him, told him you loved him and swore you’d always be each others guiding light in dark times. Convincing him that things would eventually get better.

They had to.

Lately, though, you were having a hard time convincing yourself things would get better.

Your index finger on your right hand absentmindedly twirled your wedding band around and around in incessant loops. Anxiety prickling against your chest. You had been staring at his office door for almost ten minutes, wondering what on earth you could say to bring him out of his dark place this time.

After coming up blank, you heaved a sigh and knocked on his door.

No answer.

You knocked again.

Still no answer.

Patience not being your strong suit, you opened the door with a soft whisper of his name, "Quentin, babe, you in here?"

Quentin banged his head against something metal as your voice startled him from his workspace. He looked up at you with annoyance, illuminated blue wires sticking to a fishbowl on his head. You remembered how excited he had been when he had shown you the prototype. You'd giggled with amusement when he put in on for the first time, schoolboy grin on his handsome face. There were no smiles or giggles this time.

Quentin groaned, "Hon, you know the rule about not disturbing me during--"

"I know, I know," you held your hands up. "It's just… you've been holed up in here for days and I- I just wanted to make sure you're alright. I rarely get to see you besides the rare times you come to bed at normal hours."

Quentin sighed, fulling off his work gloves and headset before walking over to you. "Babe, I'm sorry." He slid his wedding band back on and then took your hands in his. "I know I can be a bit… difficult sometimes, but I promise, as soon as I'm done with this new project, things will all work themselves out. Just like last time."

He gave you a reassuring smile, eyes gazing into yours with sincerity.

You looked away from him, eyelids heavy with worry.

"Y/N, What is it? What's wrong?" Quentin asked, his brows drawn closer together in a panic.

"This isn't like last time, Quin. I could get through to you last time," you said softly. “Not for the lack of trying... but this is different. This is bigger than me.”

Your hands slid out of his gracelessly. Quentin's eye twitched, his features conveying hurt emotions.

"You barely sleep, barely eat. When we are together your thoughts are always distant, away from me. Away from us. And when you do talk to me, it's always about this-" You hand raised to his workbench before slumping back to your sides lifelessly.

Quentin gripped your forearms in an effort to get you to look him in his eyes, "I promise I'll do better. I'll be better! No more shop talk from now on."

His smile was supposed to reassure, but all it did was make you miss the old days.

"It's not just your work that's the problem, Quin. It's you." Your stomach felt uneasy as you said that, but it had to be said. You gripped your sides to hide the fact that your hands were shaking.

Quentin looked at you completely confused, "I don't… I- don't get what you mean." 

"You've been completely unreliable lately. Just the other day, I had this important fundraiser I had spent weeks planning and you didn't show. I needed you there. I needed you to support me like I've been trying to support you."

Quentin's temper flashed for a brief second, "So this is all because I missed your fundraiser. In case you forgot, I was fired. My life's work ruined! I'm doing the best I can!"

"No, Quin. You're obsessed!"

"Would you rather I just let Stark get away with ruining the one good thing I have?"

You took a step back as a gasp of shock left your lips. Silence filled the room as you sniffled back tears.

"One good thing?" You said with disbelief. "So what? I'm not enough anymore?"

Quentin tried to rush to your side but that only made you retreat further.

"Babe, that's not what I meant. You have to understand I--"

"No, I'm done being the understanding one!" You shot back in anger.

Quentin was silenced by that.

"Quentin… I miss you. I miss us. You haven’t been yourself…" the words caught in your throat as your heart sank. “I think we should take a break."

Quentin ran a rough hand through his hair, tousling it even more. His eyes squinted in anger as he grumbled out: "You're leaving me?"

You looked up, "No! Of course not. I just think we need a break so you can figure out what's really important to you."

"Oh, that's just great! So you're just gonna let Tony Stark take another thing from me?"

"This wasn't Tony's doing. He didn't take me away from you, you did that yourself by keeping me at arm’s length."

"You know what, if you want to walk out on me just because things got too difficult for you to deal with, then go!" Quentin paced about the room, hands on his hips.

You wanted to tell him that _that_ wasn't the reason. That he'd been reading into this all wrong, but you were tired of fighting. You wiped the tears from your face and then nodded silently as you made your way to the door.

"For what it’s worth, I still love you, Quin… I just won’t stand by and watch you spiral. I'm hoping some time apart will help you realise that your work isn't the only thing you have." You pulled the door handle open. "I made an appointment with Dr Kellerman. It's synched to both our calendars. I hope to see you there."

Quentin stayed silent. You walked away.

***

As soon as you walked out of the office, Quentin knocked over the tools laying on his workbench in a restless pursuit to quell his anger.

He looked down at his wedding band solemnly, his eyes going glassy from his leaking tear ducts.

At that moment, he knew he should have run after you, but his pride was wounded and his mind was ripe with rage. Instead, he did the only thing he knew for sure would quiet his loud mind, he hunkered down at his bench and returned to work.

***

Weeks had gone by and things hadn't improved. To your detriment, they only seemed to get worse. You had moved out of the house once the friction and tension became too thick to sit through, renting an apartment in the city.

On several occasions, you had tried to reach out and convince him to come to therapy. He had broken many empty promises ever since his mood became erratic and unpredictable. As much as you dreaded it, Quentin was slipping away from you.

You had flirted with the idea of filing divorce papers, you thought maybe that was the final push to get him back on track, but the thought had only existed briefly.

One day while at work, someone had sent you a link to a video on YouTube. At first, you couldn't believe your eyes. It seemed too... out of this world.

Because there he was, on your computer monitor, dressed in a ridiculous costume with a red cape. Had it not been for the fishbowl contraption on his head, you probably would have never guessed it was him, but you knew his signature work like the back of your hand.

He looked like a hero.

He acted like one too.

You almost believed the media spin on his narrative.

Almost.

It didn't take you long to piece things together. After all, the two of you had been inseparable once upon a time. Linked in such a way you could easily tell what he was thinking at certain times.

The night before your flight to London was perhaps the single most devastating night of your life because that was the day you had found out of his demise. You remembered being so cold you thought your blood had turned to ice. The floor beneath you kicked out from under you as you collapsed in a fit of screams and harrowing cries.

And just like that, he had finally, finally, slipped away from you completely.

~The End


End file.
